


The Ones Who've Hurt You

by Brokenjaw (Vrael)



Series: Brokenjaw's Lucifer Prompts [4]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Sometimes your over protective boyfriend wants to eviscerate people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:08:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24331837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vrael/pseuds/Brokenjaw
Summary: “But he harmed you, Detective.” An echoing voice says. “That is unacceptable.”
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Series: Brokenjaw's Lucifer Prompts [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1724503
Comments: 17
Kudos: 255





	The Ones Who've Hurt You

All Chloe knows is teeth- digging, boring, and gnawing into her leg. She’s caught in a bear trap, and the slightest movement makes her predicament worse. The end of the chain rattles against a stake driven deep, deep into desert soil. Her hands still burn from trying to yank it out. 

Clyde Davidson, murder suspect and all around asshole, watches from the door of his airstream camper- looking for all the world like the cat who got the cream. It’s hard to parse the rest of his facial features in the Mojave dark - but the moon lights up his smile like a slice of mercury and it’s just as poisonous. In his right hand is what looks to be a .44 Magnum, lazily pointed in her direction. 

“I swear cops these days are just getting dumber and dumber. That trap ain’t even meant for you. Got a coyote problem, see?” He spits to the side. “But I guess it’s good for all sorts of stupid bitches.”

“What makes you so sure I’m a cop?” Chloe wheezes. The pain isn’t the worst she’s ever felt and maybe she can buy some time. Or distract him so she can crawl to her own dropped gun. 

“Please. I wasn’t born yesterday. What kind of woman stumbles around a camper in the middle of nowhere, in the dead of night?”

“You’ve got a point,” Chloe replies. “But it could have been car trouble.”

“Uh-huh. And that’s why you’ve got a gun.” He gestures to the weapon just out of her reach. 

_ Ah, shit.  _

“But you sure are pretty, even if you are a pig. Maybe we could come to some sort of _arrangement_.“

Chloe recoils inwardly. She’s getting too old for this, but if he gets closer maybe she can use her knife that’s strapped to her inner thigh. 

She dredges up her best come-hither expression. “I think I could be _amenable_.”

The suspect lowers his weapon a bit. “No funny business now.”

“Scouts honor,” She grits out.

But suddenly, the world shifts in a thunderclap. A black shadow, huge and angular, pins Davidson to the aluminum siding, deep enough to dent. Her ears pop, and something is roaring louder than a fright train. The shape is massive and heaving, strange and otherworldly. With too many limbs, and too much weight. It lets go to pace, if only for a moment. And her suspect slides to the ground like a sack of potatoes. 

But oh, what this thing is- who it is, is no stranger to her. It stalks, almost silently on feet that aren’t quite hooves and aren’t quite talons. Long arms tipped with claws go to wrap around Davidson’s throat and they squeeze. Both of Davidson’s feet lift off the ground, and he’s suspended by a singular, corded muscle grip as if he weighed no more than a kitten.

“Lucifer-“ Chloe chokes out.

Davidson’s hands scratch and scrabble ineffectually at scarred flesh. His eyes begin to roll into the back of his head, pink lips begin to turn blue. 

“Lucifer, stop.” 

“But he harmed you, Detective.” An echoing voice says. “That is unacceptable.”

“Yeah,” she replies. “But instead of hulking out, maybe you could, I don’t know, HELP ME?!”

The Devil’s shoulders sag, and Davidson is quickly tossed like a rag doll into the nearest cactus. The man looks to be alive still, if barely. Leave it to Chloe to fall in love with a man who makes Darth Vader look like a try hard. Jesus fucking Christ. 

Lucifer turns towards her in all his Hellish glory. Spread wings, sun-scorched eyes. He’s easily seven feet tall at the very least, and built like a shit-brick house. The dark red of his skin is devoted by shadows and painted dark by the night. His expensive, new slacks are in tatters and she’s sure she won’t hear the end of it on the ride back to the ER. 

“First of all, you should have waited in the car.” Chloe winces. “I had it handled.”

“Oh did you?” He replies with a touch of humor, kneeling at her feet. He gently pries the mouth of the trap open. Chloe knows he could split it in two- but he’s trying not to cause more damage than what’s already done. 

Her jeans are tacky with her own blood, and Lucifer grimaces. Ever so slowly he rolls up the cuff of her pants to reveal two deep gashes in her lower calf. He rips off part of his tattered slacks and begins to tie it around her leg like a bandage, but it stings like a bitch. 

“Secondly,” Chloe continues through hissed teeth. “Was all that really necessary? Damn it, Lucifer. Now we have to hide your tracks before backup arrives.”

His huge, warm hand cradles the back of her knee, while careful fingers glide down the line of her wounded limb. Lucifer seems to be checking for a break, but taking his sweet time. She can feel a slight tremor in his grip.

“Hmmm- and third?” He says after a while, making sure the make-shift bandage is tight. 

“Are you okay?” Chloe asks. She reaches out to touch his face- and he presses into her open palm. He rumbles, his hot skin buzzes beneath her touch like a Corvette. She’s read somewhere that sometimes cats purr when they’re in pain, or scared. She wonders if this is one of those times for the Devil. 

“I want to hurt the ones who've hurt you.” He admits. “I want to really make them pay.”

“I see.” Chloe replies, because she really does see. You can’t just take a millennia of being chief purveyor of punishment and say forget about it. A part of him will always want to slip back into the role, as much as it’s he hates it. And It’s obvious he fears what she would think of him if he were to admit it outright. 

“Would it make you feel better if I said the feeling is mutual?”

Lucifer blinks. The concept is foreign to him, apparently. 

“Let me be crystal clear. I don’t forgive God for what he did to you.” Her hand wanders across striations of tissue, across exposed bone. “He and I aren’t cool. And if any of your family decides they want to touch you again, they will have to go through me. And If someone hurts you, I'm going to hurt them back, that I promise you.”

She means it. If Lucifer is ever thrown from heaven again she has no qualms about clawing out God’s metaphorical intestines along with every single angel behind him. 

“So bloodthirsty, Detective.” Lucifer murmurs. His gaze is wet, and the set of his jaw trembles. 

“You’d better fucking believe it.” 

Chloe kisses him then, and she’s a bit possessive about it. She pours all her promises into him. All of her violence. All of her fury, and distills it down into something she can slide it beneath his tongue. She wants him to keep it there, so he will remember. She wants to be his venom. She wants to be the fangs in his bite. 

Pulling away, she can see the telltale flash of red and blue lights in the distance. The long stretch of desert can’t hide them from miles off. Lucifer, though a bit dazed, slides his arms under her and cradles her body against his chest. As he walks back to the car he compacts and shrinks back down. Skin fizzles away to smoothness. Wings fold away into thin air. And when he gently places her in the passenger seat he looks perfectly perfect and human. 

“I’ll take care of our asinine huntsman. You rest.”

“Yes, dear.” Chloe huffs, mock-affronted at his command. 

Lucifer messily stuffs his tracks with his bare feet, looking for all the world like a giant two year old on a snow day. He loudly hums the bars to a song she doesn’t know, all upbeat and bluesy, as if he didn’t just have a meltdown and a half. Their suspect moans oblivious in the bushes. 

And it occurs to Chloe, all at once, just how fiercely she really loves the Devil.

**Author's Note:**

> Made for a weekly playlist you can find [HERE](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7MrfuUKch9aElr1lhq936i?si=YeKPMW3pQkiDE1riLc-Fhg)


End file.
